All Too Well
by Waterlilies
Summary: AU. Clint Barton made a choice years ago that still haunts him to this day. With a death of someone close to him, will it be enough to reignite something he thought he lost? Part canon. Chapters will include high school flashbacks.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimers: **I do not own the Avengers or any of the characters listed below. The credit goes to Marvel.

**Author's Note: **This idea came to me late one night and wouldn't stop pestering me until I wrote it down on paper. It will be set in an alternate universe. The characters will not have any of their super human abilities, but will focus on their background traits. Whether it falls in the realm of the comics or the movies themselves, time will only tell. I tend to bounce between the two.

As for the title, it comes from one of my favorite Taylor Swift's songs.

**Feedback is always appreciated, and reviews motivate me, so please review!**

* * *

**Chapter One**

"_Some old wounds never truly heal, and bleed again at the slightest word." _

– _George R.R. Martin_

* * *

The bold font on the white cardstock mocked at Clint. Somehow the thought of being a ghost meant no one was supposed to find him. He only had a small circle of friends that knew his exact location. The only person who had the gall to pull this off was Tony Stark himself along with Pepper Potts.

Clint crumpled the RSVP card along with the envelope in his hands and tossed the conglomerate to the ground. The thought of going back to his ten-year high school reunion was daunting enough. By now some of his classmates were probably knee deep in debt, divorced at least once or more, and some maybe got hitched and started a family. He didn't want to open the wounds he left behind.

He crossed through his apartment, muttering to himself that he should've pulled himself off the grid. At the same time, he grabbed several t-shirts and other apparel off the ground. His newly adopted furry-friend followed him in tow, wondering what his master was up to this time. "Down, Arrow." There was no response from the dog. "Down, Lucky."

The dog obediently sat on its haunches, waiting for a reward.

Clint bowed his head down, "You already ate the leftover pizza." He heard her whimper. "Fine then," the almond-colored corgi sat by her food bowl. "This time only."

Her tail wagged wildly about. She waited for the cup to hit her dish and then she went to town. In between her crunches of the dry food bits, Clint went back and forth cleaning up his bachelor pad, hoping to distract himself. "It's going to be a mistake."

Lucky looked up with black saucer eyes. She tilted her head to her right, gauging Clint's emotions. To her, he was a closed book for the past month, but now she sensed a hint of trepidation and anxiety. She tried to eat, but he was still talking to himself.

"Why are you looking at me that?"

The dog licked up some water, watching his every move. She paused again and waited for his response. She padded over to where he sat and leaned her head against his jeans.

"You really want me to go?" Lucky pleaded with him again with her black eyes. "You're out of your furry mind." Clint stared at her for the longest time. "It should just be buried in the past."

Lucky didn't think so. She scooted off his legs and padded into his bedroom until managing to pull something out that Clint thought he had hidden.

…

_**Eleven Years Ago**_

"Party at my place tonight. It's going to epic. No excuses." Barton received a slap on his shoulder, as he saw Stark walk by announcing the news to the other seniors. He grabbed his science book and shut the locker. Already, he had promised his dad to spend more time at the butcher shop. Even with Labor Day around the corner, the orders will be in high demand for tenderloins and steaks. He could pawn off some of his hours to Barney, since his older brother owed him a favor for all the times he missed curfew. And then, there was another secret he had kept hidden that threatened to shatter his world. He quickly punched in several numbers on his cell phone, and in seconds, it was a done deal.

The basement was packed with the senior class. Clint walked about the room until he found his pack. Steve showed his newest artwork, something he was hoping to enter into the art fair and win a potential scholarship. Thor grabbed a handful of Chex Mix that circulated around the room while he analyzed the picture. Stark of course was trying to be the center of attention in the great debate with Banner. The two were at odds of their newest theory. Whatever the science brothers were concocting, it never was a good sign.

"You made it," Stark yelled out to him. "Go mingle."

"I am," Barton muttered back.

Tony shoved him a cup of beer from the keg, "This will help with the mood."

The teenager shook his head in disbelief and was shoved out of the group. "You're trying too hard."

"Trust me," Stark called back and dove back into his discussion with Banner for a moment.

Clint caught a few raised eyebrows and glances his way. Either it was from the alcohol or the hormones…it was high school after all. The football team was out in the back, talking to some juniors that snuck into the party. The archer-in-training steered clear of the group and walked around. He landed on an empty seat on the couch. He sank into the leather, not realizing that the other seat was already occupied. He took one hard swallow until half of his cup was emptied.

By then, the party was in full swing as Stark began to DJ to his best ability. Clint took in his surroundings and glanced over his shoulder. A familiar set of flamed-colored curls struck out. The last time he saw those was back in kindergarten. His class was responsible for the opening ceremony at the May Day celebration. Each of the girls donned headbands with colored ribbons.

When it came time to perform their dance around the May Pole, Clint was a nervous wreck. He fidgeted in his white shirt and khaki trousers, while his parents waved at him from the sideline as they took pictures. The whistle blew and each tiny hand reached down to grab their ribbon that would wrap around the metal beam. He didn't remember when the music started, but his feet moved. Slowly, the pole became candy-stripped. On several occasions, he passed by Natasha as she weaved about with their classmates. Her purple ribbons caught the breeze and one them of them fell to the ground. When he came close enough, he picked up the strand from the grass and stuffed it into his pocket.

A voice brought him out of his memory, "Clint Barton? Is that you?" She smoothed out her emerald blouse and jeans.

"Um," he cleared his throat, "Yeah."

"I can't believe it."

"Hi Natasha."

"Call me, Nat. Natasha is what my dad keeps calling me." She put her cup on a napkin. "What have you been up to?"

"Nothing much. Working at my dad's meat shop and saving up some bucks." Clint took another long hard drink. "You don't go to this school."

"My dad transferred back into town. I'm finishing up my senior year here." She unwrapped her lilac scarf and draped it along the armrest.

The minutes changed into hours, and Clint was making up for lost time. The music intensified until the early morning. Another fresh batch of Chex Mix circulated among the ravenous teenagers. By now, he felt the alcohol in his system, and he only remembered pieces.

Natasha glanced at her watch, "It's getting late…I should go." Clint walked her to the front door and held it open for her. She hesitated for a moment before smiling back at him. He watched her leave with some other friends in the pre-dawn morning. Somehow he made his way back to the basement and crashed on the couch.

"Morning, Cupid…" Stark poked him with an empty pop bottle.

"Eh?"

"Wake up, sleepy head." Stark continued to collect the evidence before his parents returned home. "You're burning daylight." He gave another poke to his sleeping friend as he picked up more bottles and cups until coming across the scarf. With a wicked grin, he used one corner to tease Clint's face.

Clint bolted up within seconds. His hands swatted over his chin, "What the hell?" He looked up at Stark from the ground, and then his eyes narrowed on the innocent fabric, thinking something way worse.

"It's about time." The physics genius shoved the broom towards Clint, "Help me clean. All hands on deck."

"I thought I was a house guest," he retorted back.

"Get to work, otherwise, no more parties." Tony went around the corner to grab another bag.

Clint swept up the crushed pretzels and cups from the ground. He went to the couch again and found the lilac scarf. Nat had worn it during the party. He took one small sniff from the fabric and it smelled of her.

_**~ End of Flashback ~**_

…

Clint was plastered to his seat for the longest time until a knock came across from his door, bringing him out of his mental slump. "How did you get in?"

Steve looked behind him, "Your neighbor across the hallway. She thinks you're hot by the way."

"What do you want?"

"Did you get the invite?"

Clint started to put two and two together and shut the door in front of Steve's face. His old high school buddy shouted through the cheap wood. "Just think about it."

"Sure." Lucky by now padded to the door and looked back at Clint, wondering why he was being an idiot.

"Wait." Urgency rose in his voice, Steve waited for several minutes, but still there was no response from Clint. "There's something else you need to know."

The door jarred open slightly, "Get the hell out of here. I have nothing more to say to you."

Steve turned around and descended down on the narrow steps. His hands were stuffed in his pockets. Outside, the streetlights were damp with the late shower. He walked through the busy streets, wondering how he was going to get Clint to cooperate.

The intersection light turned red and Steve waited along with the rest of the pedestrians to cross the street. A flood of taxicabs and cars flew through the intersection. There was one person he could contact, but he decided against it at the moment. It wasn't the right time and place, but soon enough, he'll have to cross that bridge whether he liked it or not. For now, he kept up his pace with the other pedestrians and blended into the crowd. He checked his coat pocket to make sure it was still there, and indeed it was. Now if only he had time on his side, it would make things easier.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **This chapter may contain some themes that might not be appropriate for younger readers. You have been warned.

Thank you to **Brandi **for being my first reviewer! Thanks again for the hits, faves, and story alerts. I usually get nervous about starting up new fics.

* * *

**Chapter Two**

_"When someone leaves, it's because someone else is about to arrive."_

_- Paulo Coelho_

* * *

Natasha closed the car door and grabbed the bouquet of white lilies and stargazers. It was a sunny day just like the day that occurred a year ago. The grass crunched underneath her shoes until she found the spot under the maple tree. She wiped away the dried leaves that covered the small headstone, and placed the flowers near the angel that stared back. "Happy Birthday." Her eyes found a small teddy bear plush that sat on the corner of the headstone. A pink ribbon was tied around its neck.

She stood there for a few more moments, taking in the breeze that played with her backside. When she first delivered Ariana, something was amiss. There wasn't a single cry that she expected. She peered over to the side to see a deep violet on the tiny body. They rushed the infant out of the room with a flurry of nurses and the portable monitor. Alexei and her remained in the room, wondering what was wrong. It felt like eternity before another human being came to tell them of their news. It wasn't a good prognosis seeing that she was born premature.

Natasha had reached out for Alexei's support, but there was none. He walked out of the room to be by himself. It was that moment that she requested to see their daughter. She made the decision to forgo any life saving measures and to enjoy the time that was left for her newborn. No more pokes or tests. It was just enough time to say hello and goodbye.

"We miss you." She knelt down to touch the headstone, taking in the spring afternoon and walked away with a wordless goodbye. She slipped into the driver's seat, not wanting to go back to the life she had now. Alexei somehow became distant and changed with each passing day. Every so often, he would go out with his friends to watch baseball and drink away. There was no spark between them anymore. It shouldn't have been this way in the first place, but it was all because of one decision ten years ago.

The car ride from the cemetery was slow with traffic building up for the weekend getaway. On her ride home, she passed by the conservatory where she used to practice her ballet. The marble walls seemed hollow to her. Every once in a while, they called her to see if she would come back to teach, but ever since Ariana's death, it was hard to go back to a life she once knew.

Natasha pulled into the neighborhood. The houses were the standard two floors with the white picket fences for the most part. And yet, it was still deceptive for all the secrets they carried especially with her home with Alexei. "I'm home." There was no response. She walked into the kitchen and found a note scrawled in his handwriting. "Out with the boys."

"As always," she peered out the window, thinking how there would be a swing set underneath the magnolia tree. Ariana would be there right about now, smiling away.

…

Clint walked through the Chinese market. The smell of herbs overwhelmed his senses when he first entered. To his left, shelves were lined with delicacies. An elderly couple waited patiently for a clerk to measure out wooden herbs and dried leaves on a scale. He passed by them and went to the back for some fresh vegetables and meat. In the corner, he heard the butcher sharpening his knife while the unsuspecting catfish was going to meet his demise.

Clint reached out for a package of chicken and broccoli. It was going to be a quick dinner tonight, and then off again for his newest assignment. He noticed a familiar scent come behind him. "You again."

"Look… I know were not exactly on speaking terms. Just hear me out."

"You're persistent." His hands gripped the basket tighter. "Fine Cap, meet me at the Lantern in 20 minutes." Clint watched Steve leave the premise. He reached again into his basket, loading up with ramen noodles that were on sale.

Steve watched his ice tea sweat on the table. He didn't want to be here, but someone had to be bearer of bad news. The front door chimed as Clint stepped in. He easily found him sitting in a cheap-red-leather booth.

"I'm not only here because of that card." Steve rolled the cup into his hand, "It's also about Phil."

The waitress interrupted their conversation, "Anything to drink?"

"Bud Light."

The two then resumed their conversation. "What about him?" Clint leaned into his seat. "I talked to him last week."

"He's dead."

Silence consumed them briefly before Clint cleared his throat, "How?"

"Heart attack."

"Now you know why I had to talk to you." Steve rolled the glass in his hands, "I didn't want to tell you over the phone."

"You should've called me."

"He left me…um…instructions."

"Instructions?" The waitress returned with his beer and he quickly drank half of it.

"He did." Steve slipped him the envelope across the laminated table. "He wants you to go to the reunion." Clint was about to tear open the envelope, "He also wants you to wait before reading that letter."

"When should I read it then?"

"He said you'll know when."

"Just perfect." He took another swig from his bottle, "Now he goes all Yoda on me."

…

_**Junior Year - Autumn**_

Phil overlooked Clint's record, grimacing at the bad remarks and overall GPA score. "What do you want to do, Clint?"

"Beats me."

"You're a junior now. There's gotta be something that interests you." He glanced over his extracurricular activities and found archery on top of the list. "With a GPA like this, you won't be getting any sporting scholarships."

Clint leaned forward on the backend of the chair with his chin on the headrest. He always wanted to leave this small town. There was nothing for him. He didn't see himself become the next butcher in the Barton family line. "I'll think about it."

"You have potential, Barton. I see it in you. Don't be another cog in the system. My door is always open. Just stop in and we can talk."

Clint grabbed his backpack and went out into the hallway. By now, ninth period was over and he was free to go. He cut across the football field as several other students did. Main Street loomed ahead and he took a sharp right. His family's butcher shop was in his line of view.

Instead of going through the front, he went into the alleyway and veered into the opening. Barney was out back, exchanging a small package with one of his friends. "You saw nothing, kid."

Clint received a hard tackle to his shoulder. "What was that about?"

"Don't let pops know about this, I'm warning you." Barney blew a puff of smoke into his face.

"You owe me one then."

Barney stopped in his tracks, "Keep your mouth shut."

"I will."

The two boys entered their father's butcher shop. "Everything all right you two?" He was prepping a spiral ham for one of the customers.

"Yeah," muttered Clint, "just some brotherly love."

_**~ End of Flashback ~**_

…

There were only two people that influenced Clint's life the most. One was Trickshot, his archery teacher, and the other was Phil Coulson, his guidance counselor. Clint walked home alone that night back to his apartment. The envelope in his leather jacket felt like lead. It didn't seem fair that whenever he got close to somebody, he would lose them. But then again, everything seemed to stem from the choice he made ten years ago.

Lucky greeted him at the door. She was a little distraught at Clint for letting her food bowel become nearly empty again. She brushed against him, hoping to gain his attention. Clint caught the cue and placed another cupful of food down for her.

He sat on his couch with the seat cushion deflating against his weight. He took out the envelope and by the weight of it, Phil had much to say. He always remembered the man had a way with words to a point where if he talked so much, you could fall asleep in his office. But, he was always there for the toughest of times. Clint played with the envelope a few times, tapping it against his coffee table, wondering if it was the right time, but decided to wait. There was just too much on his mind especially the time when he talked with Phil about the start of it all. It took him the whole year to turn around before he came to grasp Barney's secret.

_**Junior Year - Spring**_

Clint knocked on the door before he entered. Phil was in his office, spraying his plants with a water bottle. The mist coalesced on the dying plants. "I'm sometimes forgetful with these plants." He continued to mist, "What can I do for you, Barton?"

"Can I talk to you?"

"Sure." He gestured him to have a seat.

Clint closed the door behind him. Just by reading his posture, Phil knew this was going to be a serious conversation. "What's up?"

"It's about Barney." Clint paused before speaking again, "He's been acting weird, but I have no one else to talk to."

The older man punched a button on his phone, "Maria… cancel my 3:20 appointment, I'm in a meeting."

"I think it all started last year." Clint slumped in his seat, "Ever since his basketball game, something has been off." Phi remained silent in seat. "I think he was trying to throw the game."

"Did he?"

"No…but he's in trouble for it."

_**~End of Flashback~ **_

…

Natasha closed the book she was reading. A pair of headlights flashed through the windows. The back door clicked with the sound of keys falling to the ground. She heard a few curses come from Alexei before her husband stumbled in. The smell of cheap alcohol and smoke flooded the kitchen. The football coach stumbled a few more steps before Natasha came to greet him.

"You do realize what today was?" She was playing with fire.

"I did." He went to the refrigerator and opened the door to see empty shelves. "I chose not to go."

"How are you going to teach tomorrow?" Natasha stopped him from going further, "You can't be by the students."

"I can." Alexei roughly grabbed his wife and shoved her against the kitchen cabinets, a trail of blood ran down her neck from the broken glass. She didn't give him the honor of any scream for his enjoyment.

"You need help." Fierce green eyes met his cold ones before she fought back, only to anger her husband even more.

"I don't need anyone's help." He scowled.

Natasha kicked him in the groin, but that didn't faze him. Alexei's hand wrapped forcefully around her right ankle, before she hit him with her other foot. "You do." She tried escaping on her bruised ankle, but she fell to the ground and Alexei flipped her over. Her husband straddled her for a few moments. She felt the broken pieces of glass and porcelain dig into her back, as his breath of cheap booze and smoke ran across her cheeks. "You're drunk."

Alexei lifted her body off the ground and carried her to their bedroom. "I'm going to teach you a lesson." The door slammed violently behind them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

_"Thinking all love ever does is break and burn and end."_

_- Taylor Swift, "Begin Again"_

* * *

_**Senior Year – September**_

The lights trailed after her from the balcony. Her feet hit the stage after each leap followed with a pirouette. With each movement, she felt her center of gravity turn. "Again." The background music of "Nessun Dorma" paused. "You need to follow the music," her instructor spoke harshly with a thick European accent.

Natasha nodded in response and grabbed a small towel. Her temporary partner waited in the wings before she called out to him. She attacked the sequence before finishing it off with a fish dive. The hours of practice were getting to her, but she needed to attack her moves as much as possible before her audition. "Take five." her instructor walked out through the back door.

Even with the break, she played the aria in her head, following the notes to her moves.

"Impressive, Nat."

The voice startled her as she halfway through her leap, "Clint." She looked to see where he sat in the shadows.

"You weren't kidding about being here." He looked around the auditorium with a low whistle. "I just thought you were joking."

"Would I do a thing like that?" She wiped away some of the sweat from her forehead and neckline.

"I don't suppose."

"I have two more minutes before I start again. Want to meet somewhere later?"

"Sure." He got up from his seat, "Back part of the football field by the archery unit."

"All right."

Natasha's instructor came back with a stern look plastered on her face. "Young man, this is not a time to be socializing. You need to leave." Clint did what he was told but not before giving a wink to Natasha.

…

Clint zeroed in on his target. The arrow fell short by three feet, as the wind altered the trajectory. An innocent starling had it feathers ruffled momentarily as it went about walking through the dry grass. "You forgot didn't you?" Trickshot leaned against the post.

"Maybe."

"There are no maybes. Either you did or you didn't."

"I did forget." His undid his armguard and walked over to the pull the arrow out.

"Something's on your mind."

"How'd you know?"

"You'd never miss that shot, Clint."

"You're right." He reloaded his bow and pulled on the bowstring. With each steady pull, the string tightened and with one last look, he narrowed his eyes. The arrow sliced through the humid air and wedged itself on the target.

"That's better."

Natasha watched from the safety of the bleachers. It was the first time she saw Clint up close since Stark's party. She hadn't officially started classes yet, but Coulson had given her access to the school to keep up with her ballet practice.

"It looks like you have a visitor," Trickshot caught her watching. "I'm leaving now."

Natasha walked a little closer, feeling a little guilty. "I didn't mean to cut your practice short."

"Nah, it's all right." He plucked the arrow from the target.

"Can you show me sometime?" Natasha traced the feathers on one of the bows with her fingers.

"It'll be my genuine pleasure." His country accent came through. Instead of packing up, he tossed her an armguard and he guided her perpendicularly in front of a target. He moved her arms into an archer's position and stood close to her, "Just pull back on the string."

"You mean like this," her arm drifted.

Clint shook his head and pulled her arm up again, leveling. Again, he watched her arms drift. He moved her arms again until her left arm pointed towards the target. "You can let go now," he whispered.

Natasha fired away. The arrow lodged itself in the corner of the target.

"That's beginner's luck." Clint mused at her handiwork.

_**~End of Flashback~ **_

…

Natasha wrapped herself with a bed sheet. Alexei was lost in his sleep, but somehow he managed to snake one of his hands around her waist. She slipped out of his hold and staggered into the bathroom. In the mirror, she looked at the purplish hues that started to appear. The cut on her neck had dried, but left a caked river of blood along her neckline.

It never came down to this, but slowly, Alexei showed his true colors. Ever since Ariana's death, he never fully recovered and he plunged into the darkest corner. At times, Natasha thought of having another baby, hoping it would be part of the solution, but she couldn't bear the thought of having another child with a similar heart defect. She learned that the defect was passed from her and it scared her to death.

She let the fabric pool at her feet. Several more bruises formed in places that Alexei knew would be hidden from prying eyes. She stepped into the shower, letting the spray run down her skin, washing away the nightmare she had to endure under Alexei's hands. The thought of a fairytale life was all but gone now, and Natasha knelt down on the floor, rocking back and forth.

The water had gone cold and her hand reached up for the lever. She sat there, listening to the water run down the drain. The scent of Alexei was washed away, but the bruises still remained. It was time to get away…time to catch her breath.

She slipped out of the shower stall and walked to her closet, grabbing a simple blouse and jeans for the day. Alexei had snuck out somewhere, but she didn't care where her husband was at the moment. She walked downstairs to see the chaotic scene in the kitchen. Already, her mind went on autopilot on cleaning up the scene and making sure the neighbors weren't suspicious of their activities.

She checked herself in the mirror and applied a layer of the concealer along her cheeks before heading out. The walk down the driveway to the mailbox took forever, but she managed to pull it off. Across the street, old Mrs. Danielson watered her plants and waved over to Natasha. She quickly obliged and disappeared into the deceptive home. She dropped the letters on the table and went back to her previous task, making sure the porcelain was replaced. She then tackled the floor with bleach, wiping away her traces of her and Alexei's blood. By the end of it, the room was back to normal for the time being. She threw away the remaining evidence into the trashcan and sprayed a lemon air freshener to dispel the bleach scent.

Her cell phone rang off. It was the ringtone that threw her off for a moment, since she hasn't heard it for years.

"Rogers?"

"Hey Nat."

"It's been a while."

The sound of speeding cars and horns honked in the background. "It has." She pawed over at the mail on the counter. "Where are you?"

"New York…chasing Barton."

"Oh." She paused momentarily, before chucking some junk mail. She stopped herself from asking more questions.

"Look, I don't have enough time to explain over the phone." He walked on foot along with the pedestrians.

"Explain what?" She saw the invitation for their high school reunion.

"Phil died a week ago. He wants you to stop by his place."

She felt her breath get caught in her chest, "Oh," her hand weakened its hold around the small device before abruptly ending their conversation without any warning. Now she had another reason to hate the month of May.

…

_**Senior Year – Late September **_

The chimes rang as Natasha slipped through the meat shop's entrance. She needed a white lie to see Clint and found an opportune time. "Four stuffed pork chops please." A look of dismay fell upon her face when she didn't find him behind the counter. Mr. Barton reached into the case and picked out the finest pieces. Barney had come through the back with a box in tow, and gave a Natasha once over with his eyes.

A shiver went up and down her spine, and she stepped away, hoping that he would go away.

"Anything else?" Mr. Barton finished wrapping pieces.

"That'll be it." She paid him the amount and was about to step out before she collided into the one person she wanted to see. "Sorry."

"No harm no foul." Clint opened the door for her before two of Barney's friends came into plain sight. One of them started the catcalls and Natasha bristled before a sudden right hook met the instigator's face. The twenty-year-old stumbled backwards and gave her a warning look.

"Boys," Mr. Barton shouted out to the door. "Leave them alone." He gave a warning look to his oldest son as well. "You better keep them in line."

"Come on, Paul, let's go some place else." Barney's other friend tugged at the stunned adult.

Paul narrowed his eyes, "You better keep your girlfriend in check, Clint." The entourage darted across the street.

Clint stood there dumbfounded, wondering where the energy had come from the ballet dancer. "I'm walking you home." The two teens barely said a word to each other after leaving the meat shop. He wanted to say something but held his tongue for another ten minutes, "You came by to see me didn't you?"

"Um…no…not really."

Clint felt deflated at the moment.

"I was actually on an errand for Mr. Coulson."

"No way."

"Yeah."

"Prove it."

"Are you daring me, Barton?" She eyed him, seeing that he was pushing her limits. She didn't give him any leeway either, and she marched over to Coulson's home.

"Natasha…Clint, what are you to doing here?" Natasha quickly eyed him, pointing to the package in her hand, and hoping he would pick up on the cue. "Oh perfect, you got the meat."

"Phil, who's out there?" A female voice called from the kitchen.

"Two of my students." The door cracked open. "This is Claire."

A brunette stepped from the shadows of the kitchen. "Pleasure to meet the both of you. Phil always talks about his kids."

"Honey, you should play for them sometime."

"I don't know about that."

Phil went back into the house and pulled out the string instrument. "Indulge us for a moment, while I fire up the grill."

"If you insist." Claire took the cello from him, and in the fading sunset, music flooded the Coulson household.

…

Natasha picked at the last of her pork chop and doused it in the heap of applesauce on her plate. She felt Clint watch her every move, even though, the boy remained silent for the most part of their dinner.

"Any college plans yet?"

Natasha pulled up the napkin from her lap, "Julliard."

Clint took a sip from his lemonade, "Maybe a community college."

"Keep looking, Clint." Phil picked up his plate along with Natasha's.

"Let me help you, Mr. Coulson." Natasha folded her napkin back on the table.

"Call me Phil. It's only Mr. Coulson back on school grounds." The guidance counselor gestured to Natasha to sit back down in her seat.

Claire returned to the table with a chocolate frosted cake. "How did you two meet?" She plated a slice of cake and handed it to Phil.

The two teens paused for a moment. Clint took a sip from his glass, "I found her catching fireflies one night in a field."

"It was right before preschool." Natasha countered back, "You were collecting roly polies and almost killed them in your Cool Whip container."

He took a forkful piece of cake, "I didn't mean to."

_**~End of Flashback~**_

Natasha stood in the kitchen, looking out in the empty backyard. She slipped off the thin platinum band off her ring finger. The jewelry piece was meaningless now. She spun it on the counter top and watched a silver sphere form. For the past year, she was living a lie. The ring slowly collapsed back onto the marble surface, making a soft grinding sound before it stopped. She took the band and tossed it into the garbage disposal.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

"_And the story's got dust on every page,_

_But sometimes I wonder how you think about it now."_

_- Taylor Swift, "Holy Ground"_

* * *

_**Senior Year – October **_

The electronic bell rang and Natasha slowly walked over to chemistry class with her excuse slip held tight in her hand. All twenty pairs of eyes focused on her as she entered the room. "You can have a seat by Mr. Barton, he has no lab partner assigned. He needs help."

Clint sat in the back, wondering how to setup the equipment. The beakers were strewn about, while the long glass pipette was on the verge of rolling over from the high countertop.

"Hey stranger," she grabbed the pipette before its untimely demise.

"Funny." he reached into the drawer and pulled out the Bunsen burner along with two goggles.

Natasha reached out and clamped the contraption that was needed for the lab. She pulled up her hair into a loose ponytail and donned on her goggles.

"Thanks," Clint mumbled.

"You can get the liquid solutions under the hood over there."

"Right." He gathered several clear beakers and noted the amount to retrieve.

Natasha clamped the pipette onto the metal stand, while Clint returned with a small tray of mysterious liquids except for one beaker that had the potassium permanganate. The deep violet was deceiving to say the least. She poured the liquid into the glass pipette, watching the stream fill up to the 125mL mark. He started to strike up a conversation randomly, and distracted her momentarily. The violet liquid slipped from the funnel and splattered onto their workstation in violet drops. By then, her lab notebook took a direct hit and started to stain brown in seconds.

"Sorry…did it get ya?"

"I'm good."

Their teacher walked by with a weary eye on the unlikely pair. They cleaned up their mess and resumed their experiment, testing the mysterious liquids.

And in the back of Natasha's mind, she was a bundle of nerves. There was something else she wouldn't let him know. _Please don't be in love with someone else._ She still hadn't found the right time to ask him to the Homecoming. By lunch, the girls had gathered at their table. She was nowhere close to her goal. Pepper and Jane already started to look at dresses on their cell phones. The redhead carefully calculated the rest of her day, hoping to strike at the most opportune time.

Clint slid in front of her, tossing his brown bag lunch on the surface. "Thanks for bailing me back there."

"Sure," she took a bite from her sandwich.

"I'm not sure what the hoopla is all about."

"About what?"

"This dance…everyone's acting like it's going to be Prom." Natasha held against her words, letting Clint continue the conversation. "It's just…"

"It's just what?" she challenged him.

"Never mind." He dove into his chocolate pudding cup.

She got up from her seat and left him sitting there. The two other girls snickered at him after eavesdropping into their conversation. "What?" he held his hands up in defeat.

…

Clint grabbed another arrow from his quiver, trying to ease his restless mind. First, it was from Natasha's silent treatment halfway through lunch and the second came from Pepper's stare that soon followed. He honestly didn't know what the big deal was, but then again, he was never the type to socialize.

The bowstring grew taut in his hand and he felt the string ricochet awkwardly off his forearm. The arrow itself went astray into another post. If only Trickshot was here, he could ask him for some advice. He reached down again into the quiver and pulled out another bow.

"Get out of my way."

Natasha had stepped right in front of his target. "No."

"I really want you to move."

"No." She crossed her arms. "I'm not moving until you answer me."

He dropped his bow to his side, letting his arms relax. "What?"

"You never finished your sentence at lunch."

"You're cutting my practice time."

"Screw your practice. Just answer my question."

He could feel the sun on the back of his neck even with it slowly setting. By now, Natasha had caught part of the sunlight on her red curls. For a brief moment, he lost his concentration.

"Are you going to answer my question or not?"

Clint rearmed his bow and had the arrow lined up. "Get out of my way."

"You're a stubborn ass." She fired away with her words. It was the first time she swore at him. "I'm not moving."

_She'll move…she's not that stupid_. His gray eyes moved in on the target. He closed his eyes and fired away. The arrow cut through the air and landed a few inches away from her face. Clint stood there dumbfounded.

"I said I wasn't going to move."

"Do you have a death wish?"

"No, not really." She still remained still, "I'm stubborn…it's in my blood."

Clint dropped his bow to the ground and stomped up to her, wondering what her play was. She had been acting differently around him for the past day or so. "What are you up to?" He leaned closer in front of her, gauging her emotions.

"Answer me." She challenged him with her green eyes.

"I can't dance," his voice barely above a whisper.

"What?"

He harrumphed, "I said I can't dance!"

"All right…all right…I heard you."

"Geesh," a scowl was forming on his tight features.

Natasha moved forward from the straw target and stood on her tiptoes in front of him, "Would like to go with me to the dance?"

"You're insane…"

"I'll take that as a yes."

…

Clint fidgeted with the black tie in front of the glass reflection. This dance was making him become unglued. His hand hovered over the doorbell for the longest time. He rather preferred to be in a nest right about now with his bow.

The door opened and he froze. His eyes met her fierce emerald eyes and he knew he was in trouble. Heck…he was in trouble since day one. He held out the purple orchid to her. Flashes came from the back as her parents watched in approval.

"You look great." He walked her to the car that was on loan from his dad. The fading sunlight caught wisps of her beige dress that had a layer of lace embroidered with flower petals. He placed his hand on the small of her back.

"And so do you too." She spun around his embrace and saw his crooked tie. She grabbed the corners and smoothed them out.

The early autumn air ran through her red curls, but he couldn't stop looking at her. It was a dream within a dream it felt, but it felt right no matter what. His gaze remained on her while looked out from the open window. The stoplight changed from yellow to red before Natasha broke him from his daydream with a sharp intake of a breath, "Clint!"

His foot dropped hard on the brake as a truck blared through the intersection with its loud horn. "Thanks," he looked sheepishly, trying to regain his wits.

"I won't tell anyone," she smiled back.

They pulled into the long driveway and parked in the back. They could already hear the music playing through the open doors. By the time they walked to the front, heads turned and whispers amounted. She saw some girls snicker at her and wondered how Natasha Romanoff snagged Clint Barton. It was unlikely pair to say the least…a ballet dancer and an archer. She hugged Clint closer to her frame.

Tony found the pair and walked with Pepper in tow. "Enchanté, Ms. Romanoff." He grabbed her hand and kissed it. "Nice work, Legolas."

"Cut the drama," the redhead pulled her hand back. "See you on the dance floor."

"Game on," Stark replied and dipped Pepper in his arms.

The navy blue moonlight silk cascaded off to the side as she lifted her leg. "Aren't you being a romantic today?" The strawberry blonde looked towards her boyfriend.

"Trying to win some brownie points."

Nat pulled a reluctant Clint to the dance floor. He swallowed hard as she guided his hands over to the beige sash tied around her waist. "Let's dance."

_**~End of Flashback~**_

…

Natasha put the car in park. The house was the same as before. The gray paint started to wear away from the siding, and there was one shudder that was cracked.

The porch had a swinging bench and two seats still…one for Phil and the other for Claire. She walked up the chipped sidewalk and passed through the rusted gates. Even with Claire gone, she wondered why Phil had stayed for so long. Everyone had moved on except that Clint would occasionally come and visit before everything changed.

She walked up the steps and grabbed hold of the doorknob. When she walked in, it felt like she traveled back in time to when her life was simple. Nothing had changed except for a growing collection of pictures that Phil collected of his kids. Somewhere among them was a picture of Clint and her. Over in the corner by the window, a music stand with Claire's music sheets was still laid out.

She crossed through the family room and went back into the kitchen. The same creaky table was in the middle of the room. She remembered the numerous dinners she spent with Phil, Claire, and Clint. There were several times Clint managed to sit right next to her, but it drove her mad to have him in such close proximity. He always managed to have his right foot position by her back. The thought of leaning backwards was out of the question, but every time Clint reached for something across the table, she felt him brushing against her.

Natasha traced over the grain on the birch table. Her eyes then fell upon an envelope addressed to her that was wedged between two Mason jars.

* * *

_Dear Nat, _

_I've known you since you were in high school, but I've always thought you as part of my family. I know the last few years have been rough given especially with the recent death of your daughter. _

_I never told you this, but Claire and I tried to have a family, but things never worked out. She had several miscarriages. We thought about adoption but we figured we had enough joy from what we did through teaching. Granted, I wished I could've been there more for her. Even with me being a guidance counselor, words never came easily. But now, I'm saying them to you. It's not right for me to say that things will get better. You have to learn to trust yourself. There comes a time when you'll just have to take that leap of faith. It might come tomorrow or it might take months. Keep your eyes open. _

_I know Clint and you haven't been on speaking terms for quite some time, but he has his reasons. Again, I'm not vouching for what he did. He's a grown man and he can handle his own decisions. Don't push him away. He's hurting more than you think. Again, take that leap of faith when it comes._

_ P.C._

* * *

She folded the letter and placed it in her pocket. She collected the mini life lessons that he gave. Even with his seriousness, there was always a chance for comedy sprinkled in between. She walked over to the patio doors and saw the two chairs that overlooked the pond. A family of geese swam their way across the glass surface. She began to dream the life that she wanted to have in the first place.

…

Clint rode in his jeep. The open air blew passed his hair. He took a turn around the bend. Soon enough, an all too familiar atmosphere greeted him after the long ride from the city. Lucky was in the back, enjoying every minute of it.

The old main street was no longer ancient, but a few new stores had invaded the small town where the drug store once stood. He thought it was a shame to loose such a relic, but change was slowly coming.

Lucky snuck her head up onto his shoulder, sniffing the new smells. "Easy girl." The dog remained perched like that for the remainder of the ride.

The old driveway came into view. Clint took a deep breath, hoping that his former demons wouldn't haunt him. He let Lucky out to roam about in the yard. Her belly touched the grass as she sniffed about. And slowly, he climbed up the steps. He was about to reach for door when it creaked open.

A pair of green eyes narrowed. Without a single hello, his face received a blow to his face. The sting remained on his cheekbone and soon he felt the warmth coming from it. There was only one person who can hit like that.

She let the screen door close behind her, "Ass."

"Nice to see you too, Nat." He rubbed his cheek and braced himself for another hit.

…

Sorry about the long wait, but thank you for your patience. I've been studying for my in-service exam and catching up on my DVR recordings. Finally jumped on the bandwagon to watch Arrow, and wow love the origin story.

Thanks again for reading and for sticking with me! Did anyone recognize a lyric from one of my favorite songs?

Please send some love, my inbox has been lonely. I will pass out electronic candy. And if that's not enough, just keep reading below.

"_Extinction – the absence of feedback – can cause people to withdraw their commitment." – Thomas K. Connellan _

Until next time…


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